She's supposed to say something, I'm sure of it. We've been here before and it never ends like this. I wait patiently, I wait, maybe she's taking license. She needs to feel whatever she needs to feel, she needs to get there, even though I know she's gotten there before and she's gotten there quick than this.
And then I'm thinking maybe it's my fault. That maybe I said the wrong thing. We've gone through it so many times before, my body takes over for my mind, I get lazy, sloppy, maybe I said something wrong. Something close but no cigar. And now she's waiting for me to go, and I'm waiting for her to speak, and this is who we are now.
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